Bonds Both Eternal And Unbreakable
by Bookwrm389
Summary: With the memories of her former life returning to her, Zelda journeys through the Gate of Time to the distant past, there to begin her vigil over the seal that holds Demise. But first she must regain the last of her memories as the White Goddess. Precious memories which Hylia held close to her heart and which she could entrust to only one man. Link/Zelda, Hylia/Ancient Hero


_A.N. For those of you saying, "What is this crap she's writing instead of Shadow of the Hero?" I direct you to read the update on my profile._

_For everyone else, enjoy! I don't really know where this came from or if it's even possible in canon. But I thought it would be awesome if it WAS possible, and that's all the requirement you need in fanfiction. If anyone's looking for a short, sweet story with Hylia and the Ancient Hero, I recommend __Hylia's Requiem__ by TheShadowEclipse, which provided heavy inspiration for this story. Also, since I don't actually own the Skyward Sword prequel manga, I borrowed translation of some dialogue from Corfidbizna on Deviantart (REALLY excellent translation written in story format, I highly recommend!)_

_**MAJOR SPOILERS for Skyward Sword and the pre-Skyward Sword manga! Read at your own risk!**_

Bonds Both Eternal And Unbreakable

"Your Grace. It is time to awaken."

Zelda furrowed her brow as sleep receded, wanting to ignore Impa's voice and sink back into blissful dreams. But it was no use. The hard wooden planks beneath her and the cold, salty wind slapping her face both contrived to keep her perfectly awake and aware that she was very, very far from home.

She nudged away the heavy blanket and shivered, hands braced on the wooden mast behind her as she stood and tried not to fall over from the queasy rocking of this vessel. A _ship_, Impa called it, and Zelda had firmly decided that no one could ever invent a more unpleasant and inconvenient way to travel. She despised the constant heaving and tipping, the storms and fog and unexpected rogue waves, all of it contriving to make each day wetter and chillier and more miserable than the day before. She had already been sick several times within the first few days, and occasionally the goddess reborn still found herself hanging over the side and retching up her guts in a most ungodly fashion.

"Your Grace, are you awake?"

"Yes," Zelda answered and reached her arms high to stretch her back. But naturally at that moment, the sails snapped with a strong wind and the ship rolled heavily to one side. She squeaked as she flailed her arms and toppled backward to plop ungracefully onto a crate.

"Zelda?" Impa called in concern. Light footsteps raced from the stern, and several seconds passed before Impa rounded the mast with weapon in hand and finally spied her younger charge. Zelda regained her balance sheepishly as Impa sighed and offered a helping hand. "Your Grace...have we not been over this?"

"Don't cry out unless I really, _truly_ need help," Zelda recited like an admonished child, but she couldn't quite banish the playful smile from her face. Impa gave her a pat on the head, mock patronizing, and the Sheikah returned to the stern to reclaim the rudder steering their vessel. Zelda followed at a more tottering pace and gripped a rope so she could lean out and peer through the thick fog in search of the horizon. A bird shrieked overhead, one of the seagulls that Impa had pointed out to her when they first set sail. Zelda twisted around to look at her Sheikah protector.

"We're close to land?"

"We should sight it in minutes," Impa confirmed, red eyes intent and fixed straight ahead. "I can see it already, but I imagine all you can see is the fog. It's an enchanted shroud laid down by my people to keep demons from finding the homes of our hidden tribes."

"I see," Zelda said, even though she couldn't in the literal sense. She faced forward again, her thoughts turning to curiosity of what would happen when they reached Faron Woods and met the rest of the Sheikah. Truthfully, the prospect excited the human side of her. She would meet with a tribe that was little known among the people of Skyloft. So little known that their entire existence and role in the ancient war had been confined to but a single page in their history books. But with the memories of Hylia lingering on the edges of her mind, recollections of these people and their endless devotion to the White Goddess, Zelda found there was so much more than that. Enough to fill _ten _history books, if she took the time to sift through those memories and write it all down in a coherent manner.

_How could so much be forgotten even through the passage of time?_ Zelda wondered with some sadness. The surface and all that pertained to it had faded so far back into the minds of Skyloftians that it was but mere myth and not something they concerned themselves with. The past was the past and would stay that way. But not for Zelda. Not now that she had walked through a Gate _into _the past and laid eyes on a realm that had existed thousands of years before her lifetime. She had thought nothing could surprise her after the journey through forest and mountains and desert, but nothing could have prepared her for stumbling through the Gate of Time in Lanayru Desert and finding herself on the shores of the vast Lanayru _Sea_.

_If only..._

Zelda bit her lip and cut that thought short. _If only Link could see this._ She had thought that so many times, and it never failed to make her ache inside. No doubt he would have been just as blown away by all the wonders of this new world...if he didn't have his hands full just trying to survive it. Zelda had seen him only twice since her descent to the surface, once in the Earth Temple and again just before entering the Gate of Time. Both times he had come fresh from a battlefield, tunic torn and bloodstained or even burned, disheveled hair matted with sweat and dirt, sword and shield battered from hard use. In all, looking like he had gone through hell and high adventure to reach her.

"Do you think he's alright?"

Impa was silent for a moment, needing no clarification on to whom Zelda referred. "Yes," she replied. "I believe he is."

"Really?" Zelda asked in surprise. When Impa cast her a curious look, she flushed. "Sorry, I just...I thought you didn't believe in him. I thought you'd say something more like..."

"Perhaps if we pray hard enough?" Impa said with wry humor. "Not so long ago, that might have been my answer. Chosen by the goddess or not, I believed him a mere boy and utterly incapable of protecting you. Hardly on the same level as the very first Hero once revered by my people."

"But you don't think that anymore?"

A faint smile was the only answer she received, and Zelda beamed in return. But the feeling ebbed as she turned away and gazed into the distance, consumed with worry for Link. He had many more trials to face before he could open the second Gate of Time, and Zelda hated that she couldn't be there to help him or at least to explain why it had to be this way.

And the most infuriating thing of all was that it _didn't _have to be this way. All of her awakened memories told her that Link had been meant to accompany her from the beginning. If Ghirahim had not interfered with his tornado, then she and Link would have made the descent to the surface together. It would have been _him _acting as her protector, escorting her to each sacred spring and finally to the desert where he would then entrust her safety to Impa, the Sheikah sent through the Gate of Time. But fate had been twisted from their hands. Link had been left far behind, forced to chase after her and likely with no clue at all why she kept moving on without him.

And yet he still smiled. That same bright, uninhibited smile that she knew so well, full of elation and overwhelming _relief_ to find her unharmed. The smile that made her want to abandon all dignity and obligations and run into his arms and never let go. Her best friend, the one person in all the world she trusted and loved more than anyone else, even her own father.

Her heart thumped as another voice, clear and strong and pure, whispered deep in her heart. _Chosen Hero. Knight of Hylia._

"There, Zelda," Impa said suddenly and pointed ahead. "Do you see it?"

Zelda blinked, her thoughts scattered as she took notice of their surroundings for the first time. The fog was still heavy, but she could tell from how steadily the ship moved that they had left the open ocean and come into a harbor. In fact...the memories from her time as Hylia told her that this same harbor would one day become Lake Floria once the waters had receded enough. An enormous dark form emerged from the fog ahead. Zelda had to crane her neck back to truly behold it, and she gasped. It was the Great Tree, the one that dominated the Faron Woods of the future and could be used as a landmark for miles around.

But here in the past...it was a burned and hollowed out husk. The wood was gray, flaking, charred black in some places. There was not a single leaf or bird to be seen. Zelda dropped her gaze, stomach churning as the land finally came into sight. The beautiful forest from her era was nothing but a wasteland. What few trees were left resembled pale bones sticking out of the tainted soil, and the scant vegetation was an ugly yellow-brown and starved for nutrients.

"This is where the battle took place," Impa murmured with a kind of reverent sadness. "The great battle that, from your perspective, ended many millennia before your birth. From my perspective, it was exactly a century ago that the demon hordes marched on the last of the Hylians and sought to eradicate them. They showed no mercy to any living thing and left unthinkable destruction in their wake."

Zelda hardly listened to a word, utterly frozen as she gazed on the desolate wasteland through a flickering kind of double vision. She could see it so clearly that it made her breath catch. The two armies meeting with a noise like storms colliding, thousands of shadowy figures hacking at one another beneath a sky filled with arrows and black smoke. The sheer scale of it frightened her, so much death for no real purpose. Even Hylia had been overwhelmed and desperately appealed to the old gods for help even as the mortals appealed to her.

"...but the Ancient Hero and his allies held them back," Impa went on. "Just long enough for the goddess to spirit your people to the skies and then seal away the Demon King. The blood of humans and demons alike soaks this ground. It will take generations of care and cleansing before this land is fit to bear life again."

"And that's the task of the Sheikah?" Zelda inquired. She looked back at her protector, sensing at last the meaning behind the phrase _shadow-folk_. "To try and purify this desiccated land, overrun as it is by demons, while my people remain safe in the sky."

Impa met her gaze steadily. "Do not pity the Sheikah, Your Grace. Our fate may seem like the worse of the two, but we are not the sort to live our lives in blissful ignorance. We gladly welcome the chance to protect this land that Hylia loved so much. And...I may speak only for myself, but it makes my heart glad to know that your people will have many, many generations of peace. The warrior fights so that the innocent may live."

Zelda said nothing, but not because she could think of nothing to say. Truthfully, now that so many of Hylia's memories were intertwined with her own, she found herself reacting to things much differently than before. The old Zelda would have protested the treatment of the Sheikah and demanded to know why they couldn't be brought to the sky as well. But the goddess who had ordained all this in the first place knew it was for the best. If no one was left to watch the land, then Hylia's realm truly _would _become a world of the dead.

The ship began to turn as Impa steered it toward a stone dock. Zelda watched the shore draw near and caught her breath at the sight of other people moving about in the fog. They worked swiftly and with few words exchanged, catching the ropes that Impa cast and tying the ship in place, then hauling over a wooden ramp for them to descend. But Zelda could sense all their eyes on her. Eyes of varying shades of red, from the intense scarlet of fire to the deepest shades of blood to a strange violet-hued crimson. Some had dark skin and platinum hair like Impa while some had skin as pale as any Hylian and hair of all differing shades. She saw one young boy with plum-colored hair staring at her with an open mouth before an older boy elbowed him and reminded him to tie off his rope.

Impa stood beside her, resting a hand on her lower back. "Do not fear," she whispered. "These are my people, and not one would ever dare to harm you."

"I know," Zelda said with forced calm. That wasn't what she feared. She stepped up to the ramp, carefully lifting the hem of her dress as she began her slow descent to the dock. She held her head high and schooled her face into something like composure, striving to remember every one of Instructor Horwell's lessons on how to conduct herself during the Wing Ceremony. Then, she had only been playing the part of the goddess and hadn't taken it very seriously. Now, it was the only thing that kept her from becoming flustered in the face of all these people who looked upon her and saw Hylia reborn.

_I am a goddess,_ Zelda thought with as much conviction as she could muster. _I must not show how afraid I am. I must not disappoint them. And I must NOT trip and fall flat on my face._

Her feet touched the dock, and she breathed somewhat easier as she made for the shore with Impa close behind. The Sheikah parted before her in silence, but there was precious little space between her and them. Zelda could hear their breathing, sense the heat from their bodies and felt suffocated by the press of humanity on all sides. One man reached out as if to touch her dress, but Impa spoke a sharp word that caused the offender to snatch his hand back with a chastened look. Zelda walked on and pretended it hadn't happened, grateful that she would not be treated as some sanctified object to be stroked for good fortune.

At last they move beyond the Sheikah, and Zelda halted when she found herself standing before several people who were clearly the elders of the tribe. No longer the fierce warriors of their youth, but bearing their wrinkles and scars like a mantle of wisdom. One man in particular looked ancient, hunched over his cane and peering at Zelda from behind a thick and wildly tangled gray beard. The elder nodded once to Impa, but his eyes never left Zelda. Something flickered in them, and Zelda found her heart swelling with a sense of...familiarity. She had met this man before, but long ago...

The elder addressed Impa in a voice that croaked. "Well met, my great granddaughter. I take humble pride in the success of your mission."

"Thank you, great grandfather," Impa said with respect, but there was warmth in her voice as well. "Your Grace, allow me to introduce the leader of the Sheikah and the eldest member of my family..."

"Izaak," Zelda said, and a murmur raced through the crowd around them. But she had eyes only for the elder, who stared at her in astonishment. "I...remember you. I spoke to you long ago of the duty that would befall your bloodline. I heard your prayers..."

She had to stop there as multiple visions crashed upon her of a much younger man, torn by the tides of war and grieving for his slain parents, preparing to take his own life to escape the despair of an apocalyptic world. Her eyes darted to his wrists, the scars barely visible after so many years. But Zelda remembered so clearly how she-how _Hylia_-had come to the Sheikah in his darkest hour, healed the slashed wrists with a single touch and told him that it was not his fate to die that day...

Zelda stirred from her remembrance, finding both her hands clasped with the elder. And Izaak was trembling as he looked into her eyes, rapidly blinking back tears. "Your Grace," he breathed and for a moment she heard everything that he wanted to say. His love and reverence for her, his contentment and gratitude for a life fulfilled and a legacy to pass on to his descendants. Zelda smiled tremulously, shaken to be so acquainted with someone she had never met, but thankfully Izaak seemed to expect no more of her. He released her, waiting for Impa to retrieve his dropped cane before he turned and beckoned them both.

"Come. I welcome you both to rest for a time. As long as you may need."

Zelda nervously peeked at Impa, and with an encouraging nod from her protector, she followed Izaak. They didn't travel far, only to the mouth of a cave which in turn led to a honeycomb of underground caverns where the Sheikah made their homes. Zelda dearly wanted to explore the caverns and ask a thousand questions, but restrained herself by remembering the gravity of her mission. She held her silence until they arrived in a cozy little cave that was furnished like any cottage and she and Impa were provided with a meal along with the elder. It wasn't much, only some fruit and a kind of flatbread made of ground nuts, but Zelda's weak stomach was grateful for the simple food. Izaak seemed amused that a goddess needed nourishment at all, but he made no outward comment and instead drew Impa into a hushed conversation.

"...evil radiating from the seal again, stronger than before. It has drawn demons of a much more cunning nature to this area..."

"As it was foretold. But once Her Grace enters the temple, that should come to an end."

"Must you begin so soon? You cannot even stay a single night and make your farewells?"

"I made them before I set out for the Gate of Time. It is best if the vigil is begun as soon as possible..."

The vigil. Zelda tried to focus more on eating, but found her appetite vanishing as a memory swam before her. A recent memory this time of a massive crystal with her own unconscious form trapped within. No, not trapped...sleeping. Zelda hadn't truly believed the ramblings of the old woman at the Sealed Grounds, not until she entered the temple's inner sanctum and saw herself inside that crystal. And at the same time regained her very first memories of her existence before she became mortal. At some point very soon she would _choose_ to enter that crystal and begin a vigil that would last thousands of years.

It had to be done. It was the only way to keep the seal over the Demon King from breaking. It was necessary and inevitable, and Zelda knew deep inside that she would not refuse when the time came. But it was difficult not to shudder when she remembered the sight of her own face, hands folded and eyes closed in peaceful slumber, a single tear frozen on her cheek...

"And the chosen hero?" Izaak said, which startled Zelda from her troubled thoughts. "It was spoken of in the prophecy that he, along with a Sheikah, would accompany Her Grace to the Gate of Time. Has a hero been found in that distant future?"

"Yes, and I expect he is even now fulfilling his appointed task," Impa replied, and Zelda bit her lip as she remembered her last glimpse of Link, standing on that bridge between her and Ghirahim.

Elder Izaak hummed a little, then pressed his great granddaughter. "But you have seen him, have you not? That is far more than the rest of us can say. I would like to know, Impa. What do you think of him? Has he the same strength as the first of Hylia's chosen?"

Impa leaned back in her chair with an ironic smile. "Let's say...he impressed me."

Izaak chuckled as if in secret jest. "Well, that _is _good to know," he remarked. Zelda smiled as she took a sip of water, knowing from personal experience just how hard it was to impress Impa. Even she, the goddess reborn, had been the subject of a lecture or two when she didn't behave in the best interest of the mission.

An icy knot formed in her gut, the air taking on a sudden chill. Zelda drew a sharp gasp, hardly noticing when the ground trembled and both Impa and Izaak reacted with alarm. All she knew at that moment was the sensation of falling through endless darkness, threatened by something monstrous she couldn't see or hear, couldn't fight against or escape from. Something that sought to devour her, body and soul, and destroy everything she held dear...

She heard her cup hit the ground, along with several clay pots which shattered. Zelda jumped, abruptly back in her body and staring at Impa, who had her shoulders in a tight grip as the Sheikah called her name. The last tremors were just beginning to fade, and the silence was far more oppressive because it only made her wonder when the terrible feeling would return.

"We must go to the temple now," Impa said, lips drawn in a taut line. Her great grandfather nodded with no further argument, and Zelda stood on trembling legs, numb and unseeing as she followed the two Sheikah back outside. She could not have said how much distance they covered, but it seemed only seconds passed before they walked through a stone archway and stood in the open clearing just behind the Temple of Hylia, no longer in ruins but standing whole and sturdy.

"Farewell, great granddaughter," Izaak murmured as he embraced Impa. He whispered some other words that Zelda couldn't hear, then he and Impa parted. A few other Sheikah lingered nearby, all silent and some weeping, but Impa refused to look back as the stone doors slammed shut between her and her people, cutting off the temple and the lands surrounding it from the rest of the forest. It was no mystery why this place would one day come to be known as the Sealed Grounds.

Zelda turned to her stoic guardian, throat tight with tears. "Impa, I'm..."

"No," Impa said with a gentle shake of her head. It was only one word, but as with most of Impa's words, it conveyed so much. Her refusal to accept Zelda's apology, her decision to see this forced exile as a blessing rather than a burden. A sacrifice she made gladly and with full understanding of the consequences. Impa rested a hand on her back as they approached the temple, though Zelda stopped far back from the door, swallowing hard against a rush of dread and terrible unhappiness now that the moment was at hand.

"The last of my memories are in there?"

"Yes," Impa answered. "When the goddess came to me in a dream and spoke of my mission, she explained that the most crucial and precious of her...your memories are held here. In this temple, in this time period. Once you have regained them, then you truly will be the goddess incarnate."

Even if she didn't want to be. But after everything that had been done to bring her here, after all that Impa and Link had sacrificed, Zelda knew she had no right to refuse. She bowed her head, praying for the strength to face what was before her. And praying that once she had regained those memories and truly become Hylia, there would still be some part of her left that could be called _Zelda_.

But...what if that was the reason her future self had been crying? What if she _had_ to cast aside all her humanity so that Hylia could fully come into being? It seemed a fate worse than death, to have her mind and heart completely eclipsed by that of the goddess, and Zelda envisioned herself walking among the people of Skyloft exactly as she had walked among those Sheikah. Tall and proud, aloof and uncaring, held upon a pedestal as something to be feared and venerated. Held at such a distance that not even Link dared to lay a hand on her.

"Your Grace? We must go inside."

"I know," Zelda whispered, knowing that every second was a delay and yet unable to make herself move forward. She cast her eyes around the clearing, and her attention settled on a gap in the trees, the path which led around to the front of the temple. And the pit where the Demon King was imprisoned. Seizing on the distraction without much prior thought, Zelda began to walk in that direction.

"Your Grace—"

"I must see it," Zelda said, the tremble in her words betraying that she would rather not. But Impa made no move to stop her and instead followed in respectful silence until they circumvented the temple and the massive crater came into sight. Zelda stepped to the very edge of the spiraling pit and looked upon the riven earth and the seal created so long ago. It all seemed so unreal in a way that the rest of the ravaged forest had not. She felt drawn to it, a morbid captivation that both sickened and allured her.

She would have stepped right off the edge if Impa hadn't seized her arm to yank her back. "Oh goddess save us," Impa said, eyes sweeping over the pit. "The sword...where is the sword?"

"What sword?" Zelda said hoarsely. She forced herself to look away from the pit with her hand over her mouth, clammy and lightheaded from the proximity to the seal. It was a fight just to stay on her feet and not sink to her knees in weakness.

"The sword of the Demon King should be thrust into the center of that mark!" Impa said, for once making no effort to hide her fear at this turn of events. She kept a painfully tight grip on Zelda as she backed them toward the temple, palm held out and prepared for violence. "Its power was sealed here along with its master, none of my people dared to touch it. It _cannot_ have been moved..."

An inhuman scream shattered the air and made Zelda want to clutch her ears in pain. Impa shoved her back as a column of fire erupted from the pit, towering high and then dwindling away. A hand clawed its way over the edge of the earth, skin gleaming like obsidian and bathed in red flames like a blade just drawn from a forge. The demon rose more fully into sight, eyes burning with that same inferno, a wellspring of endless rage and hatred.

"Ghirahim!" Impa hissed.

_No_, Zelda thought and trembled as that hellfire gaze focused upon her with a silent vow of eternal pain. Perhaps one day this creature would become the being known as Ghirahim, but now at this moment it had no mind of its own. It was only a body, a soulless puppet guided by the will of its imprisoned master, every motion clumsy and untried. By the time the demon climbed to their level and staggered upright, Impa had shoved Zelda back against the sealed doors of the temple and stood between her and the demon.

"Inside, hurry! The interior of the temple is divine ground, and the doors are shielded by the magic of my people. Once you're within those walls, he cannot follow!"

"But—"

"_Now_, Zelda!" Impa bellowed as the demon roared and came for them at a stumbling run. The Sheikah rushed to meet it and unleashed a spell that would have blinded Zelda had she not turned away, hands pressed to the doors and straining to push them open. But they refused to budge. There was no telling how long it had been since anyone last opened them, and the ages had barred them more effectively than any lock or key.

"I cannot hold him back!" Impa shouted over the clash of spell and demon fire. "Your Grace, the doors!"

"I'm trying, they're too heavy!"

"_Zelda!_"

Zelda looked back and cried out when at the sight of Impa tumbling across the ground and rolling off the edge of the pit. The Sheikah dangled by one hand, struggling not to lose her grip and plummet to her death. Zelda shrank away from the demon prowling toward her, expression twisted into a snarl and teetering on the edge of complete madness. If this was what Ghirahim had been born from, then his obsessive rage in the future made all too much sense.

_Goddess, save me_, Zelda thought in blinding panic, and not for the first time her heart flooded with shame at the instinctive prayer. It had to be the height of absurdity to pray to herself. She nearly prayed to the old gods instead, but knew from bitter experience how rarely they deigned to intervene. It was nothing to them if she died here and the world along with her. They would simply create it anew in the next cycle. But Zelda couldn't make herself share their indifference, she cared too much about this land and the lives upon it. She couldn't bear to see them all die. Impa, her father, all the people of Skyloft...

"Link," Zelda whimpered, still pushing feebly at the door as if that would make a difference. "Link, please..."

The stone pulsed beneath her hands, warmth spreading through it as the radiant emblem of the Sheikah blossomed to life. Ghirahim staggered back from the light with his arms thrown before his face, and Zelda yelped when the doors swung inward so quickly that she toppled inside. She scrambled to her feet inside the temple, the doors already closing again at a speed that seemed impossible for such massive slabs of stone.

"Impa!" Zelda cried out when the doors had slammed closed with her protector on the wrong side. She pounded her fists on the stone, no more able to open them from the inside than the outside. "No, Impa! _Impa!_"

There was no answer from beyond the doors. There was no sound at all in the temple save for her own breathing. Zelda stood there for a long time with her heart in her throat, terrified for Impa and not knowing what to do...and she reached the miserable conclusion that there was nothing she _could _do. Nothing except what she came here for in the first place. Slowly, Zelda stepped back from the doors and turned to face the temple. The doors to the inner sanctum were already open and waiting, which she had both expected and dreaded.

What Zelda had _not _expected to see was the silhouette of another person standing beneath the open archway. She caught her breath, but before she could think to say a word, the silhouette vanished as if it had never been. Zelda remained frozen, struggling to regain her composure after being so startled. There was no reason to be afraid. It was impossible to say _how_ she knew this, but the certainty was there all the same.

"Who...who's there?" Zelda called. She crossed the temple toward the inner sanctum, pausing at the bottom of the stairs when she heard a rustle of cloth, a breath of air. Hope rose in her, despite how improbable it might be. "Link...?"

_Your Grace..._

She was at the top of the stairs with no memory of climbing them, crossing the threshold into the inner sanctum with no thought for the crystal prison that must surely await her. Except there was no crystal. The dais upon which it would rest was empty. Zelda eased out a breath she hadn't known she was holding in and didn't notice the doors closing behind her until the grind of stone on stone came to a sudden stop. She peeked back at the solid barrier in apprehension, a shiver racing through her.

"What...?"

_Hylia..._

Zelda turned back to the dais and stifled a cry when she saw him suddenly _there_. Seated on the steps of the dais with an arm wrapped loosely around his knee, head lowered like he was lost in deep thought. Zelda knew at once that he was a knight. It was obvious from his dark green tunic stitched in a more formal and outdated fashion that would have had some of the Skyloftian knights rolling their eyes. Zelda was slightly intimidated by the armor he wore, the chainmail beneath his tunic and the pauldrons on his shoulders, and over it all a flowing cerise-colored mantle that spilled down the stairs. The mantle showed a great number of rents and frayed edges like he had just returned from battle.

_A ghost,_ Zelda thought with an internal shudder and resisted the urge to rub her arms at a nonexistent chill. Not that she feared he might be dangerous. If a spirit was here in a place that Hylia herself had created, then it must mean the goddess had allowed it. Meeting with this knight-this _fallen_ knight-had something to do with regaining her memories. Zelda stepped closer, smoothing out her dress with nervous motions as she prepared to address him. And for the second time she was struck speechless when the man raised his head and she beheld his face for the first time, pale blue eyes watching her from beneath a curtain of white-blond hair. Her mouth dropped open, and Zelda was positive she looked ridiculous gaping at him like this, but couldn't for the life of her tear her eyes from that familiar face.

_Link...?_

"Your Grace."

His voice was not what she expected, deep and haggard and far more aged than the Link she knew. The man stood, every motion lethargic like someone who had not budged an inch for a very long time. But he seemed to gain more life with each moment, descending from the dais until they stood at the same level. Zelda took an involuntary step back, her mouth dry. _He's so tall...and he looks so solid. As if I could reach out and..._

The thought was lost when he caught her gaze again with eyes so radiant and full of strength, but also a sorrow that made her heart ache. "Why do you...stare at me like that?"

"I-I'm sorry," Zelda stammered, worried that she had somehow disrespected him. But he didn't look angry or affronted. Rather, he seemed puzzled and a little curious as he watched her. It was disconcerting to be scrutinized in such a way, and she looked aside. "It's just...your face...you look like someone I know. My best friend, Link. You look _exactly _like him."

The dead knight blinked, the most human motion she had seen him make. The corners of his mouth turned upward with the barest hint of irony. "Oh...do I? Well, you must forgive me. The face was not my choice. I am only what the goddess made me."

Zelda frowned a little and wondered if he was somehow making fun of her. She straightened as he came closer, refusing to be daunted or to retreat any further. He halted at a courteous distance, still _watching _her with that same unwavering focus.

"What are you called in this lifetime?"

_Why does that matter to him?_ Zelda thought and decided to keep the question to herself. "Zelda," she replied.

"Zelda," the knight murmured like he was trying to pronounce some foreign word. "Not the most...beautiful of names."

Now she _knew _he was making fun of her. And Zelda was not at all impressed by his manners. No knight of Skyloft would be so crass as to insult someone upon the very first meeting. She raised her chin and snapped out a lofty remark before she could consider otherwise. "Well, you must forgive me. The name was not my choice. I am only what the goddess made me."

If her impertinence annoyed him, the knight didn't show it. Rather, he responded to her banter with another fleeting smile, so warm and full of humor that for a moment she forgot he was dead. It made Zelda want to smile in return, and something tickled in the back of her mind, some nostalgic feeling that she had not known for a long time. And yet she _had _known it recently, the last time that she and Link had flown together above the clouds, carefree and happy. The two faces, the dead knight and her childhood friend, overlapped in her mind and caused her to make the snap connection all at once.

_Chosen Hero._

Zelda gasped so loudly that it came out as more of a squeak. She clapped both hands over her mouth while the man regarded her with further bemusement. "The Ancient Hero..."

The knight arched an eyebrow. "Ancient?" he muttered under his breath.

"It's...it's you, you're him!" Zelda cried, not caring that she was making a fool out of herself now. She was too awestruck, too excited to keep her babbling in check. "You're _him._ Hylia's chosen knight, the one who led armies against the demons and opened the way to the sky! You're...I'm...I've read _books_ about you, I've studied all the histories we have and your deeds are in every single one of them. I can't believe I'm meeting you face to face!"

"So...I'm well-known then?" the Hero said like he wasn't quite certain he believed the ravings of this strange girl.

Zelda nodded and wondered in the back of her mind if Link just might kill her out of jealousy when they met again. Link had admired the Ancient Hero for as long as she could remember, had hungrily devoured every detail on his life and accomplishments. He would no doubt have a thousand questions for this man he idolized so much, and Zelda tried frantically to think of them while she had the opportunity. But then she realized what she was doing, practically swooning over Hylia's chosen, and blushed hotly. "Oh goddess, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have...I-I mean, if I'd known who you were, then I would have spoken with more respect!"

"You've said nothing disrespectful, Your Grace," the Hero assured her.

"...I was thinking it," Zelda mumbled, palms pressed to her burning cheeks as if she could hide her mortification. She fixed her gaze on the floor, half expecting the Hero to mock her or laugh at her. Or worse than that would be his derision and disapproval. His disappointment that the goddess he had pledged himself to was nothing more than a child in costume. Her heart sank when he broke the silence with a chuckle, but it sounded more affectionate than anything else. His shadow fell across her and he brushed a strand of hair from her face, the touch so light that she hardly felt it.

"You are so different," the Hero said, and when Zelda dared to look up, his smile was soft and wistful. "I know that you are the goddess reborn, I can feel it as surely as I once felt my own heartbeat. But the goddess I served...that Hylia was majestic and somber and so very sad. Every moment she grieved for the suffering of her people. But I see none of that sadness in her incarnation."

Zelda regarded him nervously. "Is that...a bad thing?"

The Hero shook his head, and somehow Zelda believed him. He let his hand drop back to his side, and only when he turned away did she feel safe to look up, though all she could see was the back of his head and broad shoulders with the cerise mantle draped across them. And despite the condition it was in, the symbol of outspread wings was still faintly visible, stitched with golden thread that sparkled in the dim light. A shiver of reverence raced through her. _The sailcloth..._

"I'm glad," the Hero said, drawing Zelda from her thoughts. "I'm glad that mortal life seems to suit you. I suppose I knew that you would not be the same. You could not possibly retain all you once were as a divine being. But I thought...I feared you would despise this existence. I thought you would resent the sacrifice you made."

"No, not at all," Zelda insisted. She almost admitted that she _preferred_ mortality and would gladly throw away what little holiness she had regained, but that didn't seem very wise all things considered. As a servant of the goddess, it might make him feel bad. But then the way he had worded his sentence piqued her curiosity.

"How...how did you know about me?" Zelda inquired. "About me becoming a mortal, I mean? All the histories say that Hylia abandoned her divine existence only _after_ the war was over. After the Demon King was sealed away and the Chosen Hero was...I mean, after you...when you..."

"When I died," the Hero finished, and Zelda cringed. "There is no need to shy away from the truth. I'm wholly aware of the fate which befell me that day. I was wounded mortally and succumbed to death only moments after the goddess sent the rest of our people to the sky."

"_And the goddess held her champion in her arms and wept tears of radiant light_," Zelda quoted beneath her breath.

"You would know better than I," the Hero murmured with a shrug. He raised his head to gaze around at the sanctum. "My body perished...but my spirit awoke here rather than the afterlife. I did not know how, but the goddess entrusted me with enough of her memories to understand why. As part of her ultimate plan to defeat the Demon King, she would one day be reborn as a mortal. Until then, I was to remain sealed here and await the coming of her incarnation."

"Sealed?" Zelda said in alarm. "But...but wait, Impa said the war ended a century ago! You mean you've been trapped here all this time?"

The Hero turned partway so she could see his thoughtful profile. "Is that how long it's been? Huh...time passes strangely for the dead. It seems much longer than that, an eternity since I was left here in solitude. But then I look at you and...it all comes rushing back, like it happened only moments ago. I can still hear the battle raging around me. I hear the screams, the fire and lightning that scorched the air. I can see the demon hordes rising, slaughtering all in their path. I can smell the blood..."

He was shaking, Zelda realized, whatever calm he had possessed now slipping away. He had fallen into a trance-like state, eyes unseeing, gripped by the horrors of the past. Some of Hylia's knowledge arose within her, whispering of restless spirits that lingered and suffered their own deaths again and again, unable to pass on to the next life. Zelda stepped closer, hands held out uselessly as she struggled for the right words to draw the Hero out of his pain.

"Link...please..."

She hadn't meant to speak the words aloud. Zelda wasn't even sure why she had called him by the name of her friend. But he stirred, awareness returning slowly though he kept his gaze averted. "Forgive me," he murmured.

"Why did she do this to you?" Zelda said, distraught. "Why did she make you stay here all this time? Was it really just to guard her...my memories? All my other memories were inside temples like this, but no one had to guard them! You didn't have to..."

"No, I didn't," the Hero agreed. He gave her a wry smile. "But the request of a goddess is very hard to refuse."

Zelda shook her head. "But..."

"Your Grace," the Hero interrupted her. "You have never once forced me or left me with no choice but to obey. I _chose_ this fate, and not merely because I had sworn myself to you. These memories...they are precious to the goddess. And to me as well, more so than any other. I could not leave them unguarded. While each temple has powerful wards placed by the Sheikah, there is always a risk that demonic forces could find a way inside. And...you have seen what sleeps at the doorstep of this place."

The rest of her arguments died before they could be spoken, and Zelda nodded in reluctance. She understood, but that didn't mean she had to accept it or believe it was right. It _wasn't_. After all that the Hero had done for his people, the least he deserved was to rest in peace.

"Will you come now, Your Grace?"

She met his eyes again, which gazed at her steadily as he held out his hand, one foot placed on the first step of the dais. This time Zelda didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, her fingers cradled by his, and he guided her up the steps until they stood beneath a radiant light shining from high above. Zelda peered upward to try and find its source, but was distracted when the Hero took her in both of his own.

"Are you prepared?"

"I hope so," Zelda said honestly. But even though her heart was pounding, she felt that the fear had finally left her. She was no longer paralyzed by uncertainty, no longer dragging her feet in the feeble hope that her fate could be averted. It was as if the very presence of Link-even if it was just his face-had given her the courage she needed. "What must I do?"

"Only accept this," the Hero said and brought her hand to his lips as if to kiss it. Zelda felt her face becoming red again and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her composure from breaking. The Hero must have felt the tremor in her fingers because he smiled, eyes alight and silently teasing her the way Link sometimes did. Then he kissed her, chaste and tender...and the entire world fell away. Zelda could no longer see the temple or the Hero or anything at all. Where the memories in the other temples had come to her gentle as summer rain, these swept her up in a maelstrom of sight and sound, flooding her, _drowning_ her with their intensity. Zelda would have been overwhelmed...but she was Hylia now and stood fast before the relentless surge.

And for the first time she _saw_ everything. Saw and remembered and _understood_.

_The Triforce._

A relic crafted by the old gods, the ultimate power which could shape reality from desire and grant any wish of its wielder with no discrimination between good and evil. All knowledge of its purpose, its creation, its very existence had been lost to the people of Skyloft, but that didn't mean the Triforce itself was lost. _That_ was what the Demon King sought to claim from her, _that_ was what she had to protect at any cost. The sole purpose of Hylia's existence was to guard the Triforce from all who would misuse it.

_Demise._

The abomination finally had a name, and it was a name chosen especially for her. He who carried such burning hatred for the old gods, and for Hylia herself, that he spent every waking moment thirsting for their demise. But he was clever enough not to come at her directly, instead sending forth his dark legions to slaughter her people and poison her land. For Hylia's existence was intrinsically tied to the wellbeing of her realm, and the longer the war raged on, the more her divine powers waned. Demise took full advantage of this chink in her armor and remained far belowground, waited eagerly for the day when the White Goddess would be diminished enough for him to destroy her and claim the Triforce.

But Hylia was not without wisdom, for she was Nayru's daughter and the Goddess of Time. She could see the many paths of the future and how many of those paths led to the world's destruction. She alone did not have the power to stop Demise...and so she found a mortal warrior who could fight in her stead. Someone strong enough to stand against the Demon King, someone of noble heart and unbreakable spirit. Someone who would rise to the defense of her realm no matter what trials lay ahead.

She chose him.

_Link._

The torrent of memories slowed now, enough that Zelda found herself reliving them to some extent. She recalled the moment Hylia first appeared before the young knight, the two of them alone in this very temple where he had come to pray in solitude. The goddess laid everything before him, her powerlessness to stop Demise and her dire need for a hero to rally her people. She held out the sailcloth, proof to all who saw it that he was her champion.

"Will you aid me, Chosen Hero? Will you lend me your strength?"

And Link nodded and knelt to accept the sailcloth, his face determined. "I will, Your Grace."

Time passed as the war dragged on and on. Hylia did not come to him again in those years, but Link never faltered in the task she had set him, rising quickly in the esteem of other mortals as word of a hero spread throughout the realm. For a time the humans stood fast and seemed on the verge of driving the demons back. But that was only a fleeting fantasy as Demise mustered his forces and attacked with new ferocity. The humans were left with fewer and fewer numbers until only one small castle and town remained to call their own. And Link, for his seeming failure to bring an end to the war, was stripped of all rank and honor and thrown into a dungeon, there to languish for many years.

_Why? _Zelda railed at her past self. _Why?_

Hylia could not answer her in words, but Zelda received an impression of a sword. Strong and well-balanced, but dull and not yet tempered into the blade she needed. Those long years he spent in darkness, plagued by self-doubt as he wondered if he had failed somehow, if he hadn't been strong enough...they were necessary to forge his mind and heart into that of a true hero.

And he passed the ordeal. Through it all he never once lost his love for his land and people...and her.

She appeared before him again on the day that he was set free from his imprisonment. That day was a shining one in her memory, Link again standing before her with more wisdom in his eyes, with a heart that blazed courage even more strongly than when he first donned the sailcloth. Hylia _knew_ then. It would be he who tamed the Crimson Loftwing, he who would bring an end to the Demon King. The time had finally come to place everything in his hands.

But still...he hesitated when she offered the sword to him. His heart was laid bare to her, like the hearts of all her devout followers, and Hylia could see how deeply her abandonment had wounded him. He loved her, far more than a servant should love a goddess. He yearned to be by her side, he felt unworthy and ashamed of his longing, as if that could be the reason she had turned her back on him.

"Your Grace...I have long been imprisoned. I am weak. I could not possibly touch such a sacred sword."

His words should not have stirred her. His love should not have moved her. All of Hylia's people were equal in her eyes, each life precious and cherished and none more valued than any other. And yet...she felt his pain as her own. She had seen him suffer without breaking, had seen him sacrifice so much and never once ask for anything in return. He had never demanded a single boon, not wealth or glory or power, not even her love. The only wish in his heart was to serve her faithfully and to save her realm and all the people in it. The goddess marveled that such a beautiful soul could exist, let alone be so devoted to one such as her.

And realization came to her. She did not want to send him forth. She did not want him to face the Demon King. She had seen him dying a thousand different ways in the vague, uncertain future and knew it would take a far stronger hand than hers to steer his fate otherwise. And though his soul would not perish, though he would be reincarnated into the next cycle like any other mortal...he would never again stand before her as he was now. _This_ man who had endured so much, this knight so devoted to his goddess, would cease to be. Forever.

_I...I love him. More than I love my realm and my people. More than I love my own existence. If I could save him at the cost of letting the realm burn and myself along with it, I would gladly pay the price. Hero...it is I who is unworthy and ashamed to stand in your presence._

Zelda felt tears streaming down her face. She knew the rest of the story. She didn't need to see it, she didn't _want_ to see it. But she was too far gone now, consumed by the overwhelming pain of her memories, and she couldn't look away...

In the end, nothing had turned out as Hylia thought. In the end, it was her hand which dealt the mortal blow to Demise and sealed him away, and it was Link's hand which cleaved the earth and sent the Triforce and her people to the heavens. A strange twist of fate...and yet not enough to avert the inevitable.

She found him where he had lain down to rest, eyes closed and skin cold. It was too late for anything to be done. His spirit had already fled into the care of the old gods, and she had no power over life and death. Hylia cradled him in her arms and touched his peaceful face with sadness in her heart. She had not been there to witness it, but she had known the moment he was struck down, tasted his blood soaking the earth and heard his dying gasps on the wind. And she had heard his final prayer, which as befits a hero, had not been for himself but for those he loved.

_My friends...let my spirit...always be with them..._

He could not have known when he said those words how prophetic they would become. It had been the will of the old gods that he wield the Master Sword. Now that it had been awoken, the blade would eternally answer only to him, and someday he would be reborn to take it up again. He faced many more lifetimes in which this same battle would be fought again and again, forever embroiled in bitter conflict with his enemy until the day when Demise was truly vanquished.

If she had asked beforehand whether he was willing to undertake this eternal vigil, Hylia knew he would not have refused. His noble heart would not have allowed it, even if he felt reluctant or afraid, even if he hated her for forcing it upon him. She should have felt gratitude and pride in her champion, but at that moment all she felt was anguish and bitter regret.

_Link...forgive me. Because you loved this realm and its people so much, your life was one filled with pain. And yet you bore it gladly, you gave up all of yourself for their sake and mine. I will not forget what you have endured._

Hylia pressed her lips to his forehead, silent tears streaming down her face. _What would you ask of me? What would you have of me? This life was cruel to you, but all the others after need not be so harrowing. They need not end like this. Link...what may I do to ease your burden? Anything that is mine to give, I will grant you gladly._

And somehow, of all the prayers she had spoken in the last few centuries, of all the pleas she had made without hope of being answered, it was this one wish the old gods chose to grant her. Hylia lifted her head at the call of a distant voice, rising slowly and holding out her hands to cradle a softly glowing orb that had drifted down from the heavens. The spirit of the hero, returned to her care for but a short time. Only long enough to set a new future in motion. Hylia wept in silence as she bore his precious spirit from the field of battle, followed after by her devoted Sheikah who emerged from the shadows where they had kept a respectful distance. They converged on the Hero's mortal body and carried it away, to lay it to rest as their earthly customs dictated along with all the others who had perished this day. They knew their task and Hylia left them to it even as they left the goddess to her own.

"I cannot erase all that has happened or change what lies ahead," Hylia murmured to the spirit as she stepped within her temple. "But I can do this one thing, Hero of Hylia's Realm. Your spirit will live on eternally, and I...I shall cast aside my title of goddess. The next time we meet, I shall stand before you as a human being. I shall behold you for the first time through the eyes of those you have saved. And perhaps a day will come in that far off future when our love will be unfettered by our fates."

The spirit in her hands flickered, sorrow emanating from it, but also joy as she linked their spirits with bonds both eternal and unbreakable, bonds that would transcend time itself. It was perhaps the first unwise thing Hylia had ever done. She would be utterly feeble as a mortal, graced with only a sliver of her previous power. If Demise or one of his servants should capture her, if something should happen before her plans could be realized, all would be lost. Yet Hylia had faith that this was the path they were meant for.

"No matter what the ages bring us, no matter what trials we face...know that I will always stand by your side."

_When evil arises in the realm of Hylia, two people will come..._

Zelda trembled and sobbed as she slowly came back to herself, the memories still fresh in her heart and evoking such ancient grief that she felt her soul would be torn apart. Her eyes were raw and her throat hoarse as if she had been crying for hours and hours. And for all Zelda knew, she had been. She and the Ancient Hero were both seated on the steps now, Zelda a few steps below with her cheek resting against his leg, tears spilling over on his lap while he stroked her hair in silence. It should have been horribly awkward for them both, strangers as they were. And yet they were _not _strangers. Zelda had once been the goddess that he served.

And now the terrible comprehension had crashed upon her, the knowledge that this Ancient Hero, this knight named Link was also..._her_ Link. One day in the distant future he would be reborn as an inhabitant of Skyloft and his destiny would begin anew. An incarnation, just like her.

"She foresaw your death," Zelda rasped, her gaze fixated on the closed doors of the sanctum. "She knew it all along, even before you were freed from your imprisonment. And she let it happen anyway...even though she loved you..."

"No," Link murmured, and Zelda thought at first he was refuting Hylia's love. But he shook his head and went on. "She foresaw only the _possibility_ of my death. The future is not set in stone, and many paths can be taken to reach it. There was a chance I would die...but there was also a chance I would live. That I would survive my injuries and escape to the sky and live a long and fulfilling life before my reincarnation. It was through my own carelessness that path was denied me. You have no reason to feel guilt."

Zelda raised her head. "Yes, I do! It's my fault all of this happened! I was the one who told you to fight Demise and made you suffer so much, and now...it's happening all over again! Link came after me to the surface, he's been fighting all this time to try and find me, and he still has no idea _why_. He doesn't know anything about Demise or the Triforce or about who I really am. I don't know what to...how do I _tell_ him about all this?"

Link regarded her sadly. "That...I don't know. I cannot see the future, Your Grace, not even my own. But if he is anything like me, then he will be glad to serve you no matter the cost."

"No, you don't _understand_," Zelda sobbed and buried her face in her hands. "It's not like it was with you and Hylia. W-We grew up together, we've been friends since before I can remember. But I never thought...this means none of it was real. It was all just another preordained path laid out by the goddess. We only care about each other because of what we were in a previous life..."

"Your Grace," Link said, suddenly fierce as he clasped her wrists and lowered her hands. "Please...I beg you not to believe that. Never doubt my love for you, in this life or any other. Our path may have been ordained by greater forces, but in the end it was we who chose to follow it."

Zelda could only shake her head hopelessly. Maybe the Ancient Hero could say that now, but by the time he was reincarnated, Link would have no memory of this conversation or any other before it. He would just be Link, the boy who napped in the middle of class and soared on the back of a Crimson Loftwing and said more with a smile than most did with a sentence. The last person in the world who deserved to have this kind of burden thrust upon him. By _her_, of all people.

"...he'll never forgive me."

"Yes, he will," Link assured her. "He _will_."

"How can you be sure?" Zelda said in misery. "I can't even forgive myself!"

Link only looked at her with his brow creased, as if he were searching for some answer that would not cause more tears. But before he could speak, the light shining down on the dais brightened and focused into an intense beam. Both Zelda and the Hero stared at the light, and she felt a tremble in his hands even as foreboding rose in her heart.

"My time is at an end," Link said in a soft voice. He tried to smile, but there was too much sadness to truly call it that. "Though I regret to leave you like this."

"I know," Zelda said and ducked her head to hide further tears. "I know...you don't have a choice."

"Zelda," Link breathed, and she felt his lips press against the crown of her head. "Just make me one promise. Promise that you won't weep in front of him. As a goddess I never once saw your tears, and it pains me to see them now."

Zelda nodded feebly, knowing she could try but also knowing better than to make it a promise. She watched him rise up and turn away from her to face the light, seeing so clearly all the similarities in their spirits. The courage and strength, the kindness and nobility. But at the same time their lives and experiences were so vastly different, the same soul giving birth to two completely separate beings.

_And he would never again stand before her as he was now..._

Zelda gasped and leapt to her feet, her memories compelling her to rush forward just as Link was about to step into the light. He paused at the sound, but had no time to turn before Zelda embraced him from behind, clutching at the front of his tunic and burying her face in the crimson sailcloth.

"Your Grace..."

"I wanted to see you again," Zelda whispered, the choked words tumbling out. "That's why she...why _I_ left your soul here. Because I knew a t-time would come when I would come to the past, and you...your spirit would b-be here waiting. That was the only reason, it's all because I was selfish and couldn't bear to let you go just yet and...and I...I'm so _sorry_. I'm sorry, I wish I could change it, I really do! I wish I could go back and do everything over and find some way to save you...but I _can't_, I just can't. What kind of a goddess does that make me? How can I be so powerless, so weak? So...?"

"Human," Link murmured, and Zelda grew very still as he laid his hands over hers and lifted his gaze to the radiance above. "I asked you once, long ago, why it was me who was chosen to be your champion. Out of so many other knights just as devoted and skilled, why was I alone worthy of that title? And you said these words. The title was not created for me...rather, I was created for the title. The gods make no mistakes in their creations. All of us is made for a specific purpose. We may deny it, we may fight it, we may even lose sight of it or become corrupted...but ultimately our fate finds us and often in ways we would never expect."

He laid his hands over hers and squeezed her fingers gently. "Hylia...Zelda...you are a creation of the old gods even as I am. And I believe now that, just as I was meant to be your champion, you were always meant to be human. You were fated to walk this world on your own feet, to taste the water and breathe the air, to live and die and be reborn to protect this land anew. But you didn't see it right away. It took my suffering and my death to make you relinquish your divine powers, even though it seemed a terrible mistake at the time."

Zelda stilled at his words, struck by how much _sense_ they made and wondering if she should be furious or consoled that she had no more control over her future than him. "So then...why didn't the old gods just make me human in the first place?" she wondered.

"I don't—" Link began to say, but a shudder raced through him, and all at once Zelda sensed him beginning to fade away. Already he seemed a little less solid to her, his warmth and scent fading. Her arms could no longer hold onto him, and Zelda gasped as she released his translucent form. Link turned quickly to face her, reaching out with sudden fear in his eyes. And with her newly awakened memories, her new understanding of his heart, Zelda could easily guess the source of his fear. His previous life had been so harrowing. From the moment of his birth, the world had been embroiled in war with demon-kind. This Link knew nothing but grief and suffering and the endless fight for survival. And now he would start all over again, reborn in a new life, and he had no idea what awaited him there.

"Don't be afraid," Zelda whispered, and for once she was able to truly smile in spite of everything. Just before he would have disappeared, she stepped closer and leaned up, just barely tall enough to touch her lips to his. And for a second time, she bequeathed her memories to him. But these were not Hylia's memories, filled with despair for her dying world. No, _these_ memories belonged solely to a Skyloftian girl named Zelda...

_She sat huddled on the steps in some forgotten corner of the courtyard, arms wrapped around her knees and weeping in misery. Her hair draped loose across her shoulders, tangled where that stupid crow had snagged its claws. The crow had snatched her favorite blue ribbon right out of her hair and carried it off to to its nest, and now she couldn't get it back. It wasn't fair, it wasn't! Today was a special day, it was the first day she would start classes at the academy, and Zelda had wanted to look pretty when she walked in the door for the first time. But now her face was all scratched and her hair was messed up and she couldn't stop crying over losing that ribbon, even though she was a big girl now and shouldn't be so upset over a little thing like that._

_A timid hand touched her on the shoulder. Zelda jumped in surprise and wiped away her tears, embarrassed to be caught crying like a baby. She stared at the boy who had snuck up on her, and the boy stared at her with wide blue eyes, the same color as the lost ribbon. Just the thought made her tears start to fall all over again...but only until the boy gave her a shy smile and held out his other hand, the sky blue ribbon clutched in his fingers. Zelda gasped and snatched it away from him. The ribbon was shredded from the crow's talons and probably probably ruined forever, but she was so happy to have it back that it didn't even matter._

_Zelda looked at the boy again, astonished. His face was even more scratched up than hers, and his clothes which had once been new and spotless, were torn and dirt-stained. Most likely from trying to reach the nest, and Zelda couldn't imagine how he had braved such a climb or the nasty crow waiting at the top. And all just to get her ribbon back. It was the kind of thing a knight would do._

_The boy rubbed the back of his head nervously. "S-Sorry it got torn up..."_

_Zelda leapt to her feet right in the middle of his apology and hugged him with all her strength. The boy sputtered a little when she kissed his cheek, and when Zelda pulled back to give him a bright smile, his face was bright red._

"_Are you starting classes today?" Zelda asked. When he nodded, she smiled even more happily. "So am I! Let's be friends, okay?"_

_Let's be friends...that had been the beginning. Of everything. They spent their childhood in the paradise of a bright summer sky, ignorant of the ravaged land below or the sacrifices made to grant them this life among the clouds. Unaware of the dark future looming as they studied their history tomes and bonded with their Loftwings and let their friendship blossom over the years. She saw him dozing at his desk in classes, a hopeless student from the beginning, but at least she was there to prod him awake before the teachers could notice. She saw him in the sparring hall, correcting her grip on a wooden sword and helping her make that first slice through the target log. She saw him in the Lumpy Pumpkin with all of their friends where he took his first cautious sip of ale only to spit it all out and stain her shoes in the process. There was not a single memory Zelda possessed where Link was not a part of it, and each moment, from the joyful to the tragic, was just as precious as the last. He was at her side when she lost her mother to sickness, and in the same year Zelda stood by his side when Link's parents were lost in a terrible thunderstorm while flying their Loftwings. She saw him bond with his Crimson Loftwing for the first time, she saw him accepted into the Knight Academy and then graduate from it by winning the Wing Ceremony._

_That day...it had been a special one too. Zelda had decided the time was right. She had loved Link since they were children, but now that they were older, nearly adults according to Skyloftian custom, she found herself longing for more. She dreamed all the time of Link loving her, courting her and eventually marrying her, all without knowing whether it was something he wanted too. At least until the night before the Wing Ceremony when Headmaster Gaepora had come to her while Zelda was busily sewing the last touches on the Sailcloth._

"_Hello, my dear. I just had a rather interesting conversation. With your young friend, Link."_

"_What, he's not asleep yet? What's he thinking? Tomorrow's the Wing Ceremony! He won't win if he nods off and plummets right off his bird! Or worse, what if he sleeps in and misses the entire thing? He can't mess this up! Father, you've got to tell him—"_

"_I told him that he had my permission."_

"_Permission?"_

"_To court you, of course."_

"_...eh?"_

"_I'm saying he asked for my permission, and I gave it. Quite formal of him, but then it's always refreshing when the young ones observe the proper traditions."_

"_Did you say...he wants to...REALLY?"_

"_Oh dear, should I have told him no?"_

"_N-No, of course not! But he's...Link really...Father, do you realize what this MEANS?"_

"_That he's madly in love with you? Yes, his intentions have been obvious for quite awhile. As have yours, Zelda."_

"_Mine? But I never even said anything...I haven't told anyone, not even him!"  
_

"_Mmhmm. And just who might you be making that Sailcloth for with such tenderness and care?"_

_Her father had her there. And the very next morning she finally saw what Gaepora seemed to have known for some time. She and Link danced around each other all day, the lingering looks and awkward pretenses quickly becoming open flirtation by the time the Wing Ceremony was complete. Zelda knew what he intended, and Link knew that she knew, and as soon as possible they stole a moment to fly off together where no one could eavesdrop save the goddess herself. She remembered so well the joyful smile that Link had given her, the last of his shyness evaporating when he realized what she was about to say._

"_Link, I...there's something I've been meaning to tell you..."_

_But then the black tornado had come..._

Zelda felt tears on her face as she opened her eyes for a second time, unsurprised to find herself kneeling all alone on the dais, head bowed and hands folded in her lap as the light above her faded. The spirit of the Ancient Hero had departed to the gods. Gone like a breath of wind, without even a final word or kiss. But that was fine. He had no reason to linger, knowing what sort of life awaited his incarnation. If only his first life had been so peaceful and happy. If only all his future lives could be so.

_Link..._

The doors behind her began to open again, stone grinding against stone, and that was swiftly followed by light footsteps padding toward her. But the footsteps slowed and halted just short of the dais, and Impa spoke breathlessly. "Your Grace? Are you well? Forgive me, I would have come sooner, but the temple doors would not open until just now."

"I know," Zelda murmured. _Because it was I who opened them..._

"...I managed to drive Ghirahim away," Impa went on. "He tried to enter the temple after you, but whatever that force was on the door, it weakened him greatly when he touched it. I doubt he will return to plague us. At least...not in this era."

All the time that Impa spoke, Zelda slowly dried her tears and gathered herself to rise. She turned around, facing her Sheikah protector and the dormant Gate of Time. Impa stared at her for a long moment, overcome with some powerful emotion. And for the first time since the day they met, the older woman knelt before her.

"Your Grace...Hylia..."

"I am...Zelda," Zelda whispered. And she still was, somewhere deep inside. The girl from Skyloft was still there, but it was like her human heart had become encased in crystal, protected and held separate from the divine knowledge that now filled her. She felt as though a veil had been ripped away from her mind, all of Hylia's wisdom and regret poured into her and transforming Zelda into something more than what she was. Something inhuman and untouchable.

_But only for a short time_, Zelda swore to herself. Only long enough to accomplish her final task and set Link on the path to his true destiny. His own awakening was nearly upon him, the moment when he, too, would remember his previous life and the nature of the bond they shared. Soon he would become the hero in truth as well as name, and Zelda could only pray that after he had done all she asked, there would still be enough of _her _Link left to forgive her.

_And may the way of the Hero lead to the Triforce..._

Behind Impa in the central chamber of the temple, the Gate of Time hummed and began to glow.


End file.
